Without further delay, please let me present to you all an incredible artist and handsome young man." Candy, one of my Noona's friend hands me the microphone with an encouraging smile.
I climb the small steps to the temporary stage, my heart thumping inside my chest. A hundred of Tanglewood's wealthiest people fill the courtyard, swathed in linen and silk and jewels. Some of these same people frequented the Grand when it was a strip club, anonymous and furtive.
Now they're here with a mixture of pride and disdain-and the same prurient curiosity as before.
My hand shakes as I hold the microphone tight. A sharp, high-pitched sound arcs over the crowd before falling silent. I hold curved metal close to my mouth and speak.
"Thank you for having me tonight." My voice comes out shaky, so I take a deep breath. This is important. Not just for my career, but for my sister. For my friends.
Candy overcame the odds to be standing here tonight, looking glamorous and confident. No one would know she once shivered in a dirty white shift under the control of a cult leader. She's the one who turned this place into a burlesque show.
I grip the microphone tighter.
"It's an honor to be here tonight, sharing my work with you. But this night isn't about me. And it's not really about all of you either." There are a few soft gasps in the audience.
"This is about the women onstage, the ones who dance under those bright lights, night after night. Their costumes are beautiful, their makeup flawless."
My voice grows stronger as I look at my sister, tears shining in her dark eyes, Min Ho's arms around her.
"Their dancing is powerful and elegant, but that's not why we're here either."
I look at Candy, who overcame so much just to grow up.
Things most people take for granted. A home, parents.
Enough food to eat. She started stripping at the Grand to support the only foster parent who ever cared about her.
"We're here to celebrate the women inside, beneath skin and muscle, bone-deep. The resilience of the human spirit. We're here because we want to bask in their strength, if only for a few hours. As if even the sight of them raised up will lift us too."
My voice cracks on the last word, and I can't shake the dread from earlier, the danger. Can't shake the feeling that this is goodbye. I nod to the men dressed in suits on either side of the fountain. They reach for the black silk covering the angel and pull it away.
The crowd audibly sucks in a breath at the sight of the angel, standing proudly in the center of the fountain-her wings stretched as if to take flight, her eyes with all the dark knowledge of this earth and all the painful hope for more.
I step down, my insides still quivering from being onstage, and the crowd sweeps me up. It's gorgeous,transcendent.
Who was your model?
Do you take commissions?
What's your availability?
Noona manages to squeeze in beside me and encircles me in a hug.
"You were wonderful up there," she whispers.
"Thank you," I say, eyes wet with tears.
She hands me back my silver clutch before people press their way between us again. I knew that I might get a commission or two out of this event, but I'm unprepared for the deluge of interest. I answer the questions as best I can,
feeling overwhelmed.
I didn't use a model for this piece.
I'm not sure what my availability will be.
No, I don't have a website.
No agent either.
It feels like I've been fielding questions for hours even though it's probably just been twenty minutes. I'm out of breath and flushed.
"Excuse me," I murmur to an older woman dripping in diamonds.
Without waiting for her response, I stumble away,ignoring the calls and the hands that reach for me. Is this how my sister felt when she danced onstage? Except worse because she was naked-and the men thought they had a right to her body.
I stumble across the courtyard, over the threshold of wide double doors, across velvety carpet. The first private places I see are the small vestibules that used to be VIP rooms.
They've been converted into ticket booths, but they're not operational right now because this is a closed, invite-only grand opening event.
Leaning back against the door of one, I close my eyes and breathe deep-trying not to think about all the things that have happened in these four-by-four feet of space:
favors paid for, things taken without permission.
Once my breathing evens out, I reach into my clutch and pull out my phone. It's blinking with notifications, which isn't surprising. A bunch of my classmates are on Instagram with me...and now that I think about it, I guess I could have given this URL to the people asking about my website.
Then I remember the goofy picture Amy and I took with the shot glasses shaped like high-heeled shoes. It's probably best I didn't tell them about my account.
There's also a text message from Amy.
Hey-this is going to sound weird. You know the guy you always sketch? I think I saw him.
My heart immediately races faster than it did onstage.
The shadowy shape of him that night in the alley. The missing orange pieces. I tell myself I'm imagining things,
but it doesn't help.
With trembling fingers I type,
That's not possible.
After a minute my phone rings. "Hello," I breathe. "What happened? Where did you see him?"
"It's probably nothing," she says, but her voice sounds strange, like she's just seen a ghost. "I left my makeup bag at your place, and I have a date with Mr. Bouncer tonight, so I went back to get it. I used my key and went straight to the bathroom. I was just packing up the eyeshadow when I heard this sound in the apartment."
"Oh my God."
"I went out and I didn't see anything, so-I don't know why, but I walked over to the window and looked down.There was someone at the bottom. I just saw a flash of his face with the streetlamp. Then he was gone. It freaked me out, that's all."
"Of course it did. That's scary." The neighborhood isn't exactly the safest. Not as dangerous as where I am now, though. "What did you do?"
"Nothing. I peeked out at the street before I left, and waited until the Uber pulled up before I stepped outside. But I didn't see anyone. Just some students walking around."
"I'm sorry it scared you, but I bet Lupo got spooked and that got your attention. Then you saw some random guy-"
"But he looked like him, Jungkook. I must have seen a hundred sketches of him by now." Something that feels uncomfortably like hope shifts in my chest. I push it down.
"I wish you were right, but it's just not possible. He's..." I've never told her who Taehyung was to me-or what happened to him. "He's dead."
"Oh," she says, voice quiet. "I'm sorry."
"Look, don't worry about it. Go out with Mr. Bouncer- who has a name, I presume?"
"Probably."
I snort. "Well, have fun with him and his muscles. I'll see you tomorrow night."
When I hang up, I have a smile on my face. It fades as I remember what she said.
He looked like him, Jungkook.
She really has seen a lot of sketches of him. But there are bound to be men who look like him. Dopplegängers. And she saw him in the dark, from one story up. There's no way it's him.
I know this, and yet somehow my fingers are pulling up the Uber app and ordering a car. Then I'm slipping through the crowd, avoiding my sister so she doesn't see me leave.
I'm breathless by the time I reach my building's door and run up the stairs. I throw the door open, but my loft is empty. Of course it is. The window reveals an empty fire escape and an empty sidewalk below.
Disappointment burns in my gut.
I curl my fingers under the wood frame, painted over with swirls of blue, and lift the window.
"Lupo," I call, my voice hushed. The word bounces off the brick walls and echoes back. With a sigh I put out a bowl of dog food in case he comes back later.
Then I shut the window. At least he'll be able to relax better with me gone.
Exhaustion drags at my limbs, the euphoria of the night collapsing into grief. Taehyung is gone. I need to accept that. Sometimes I feel like my life depends on it.
My gaze drifts over to the bare nightstand surface. No oranges. I must have gotten up during the night and eaten them. It's the only thing that makes sense. The only thing left is a full glass of water.
I take a sip, and the liquid feels so refreshing, so calming, that I take another sip. And another.
Soon the glass is half-full. Sleep drags my eyelids down.
This is crazy. I'm still dressed in a silver sheathe, still holding my clutch in my hand, makeup on my face and high heels on my feet. I'm not ready for bed at all, but I feel like I'm a breath away from sleep.
The night must have taken more out of me than I thought. I guess it's not that strange for me to be sleepy-I woke up early and then had to deal with Han Su. Then there was the unveiling and the impossible hope of seeing Taehyung. Maybe I can take a little nap.
I drink the rest of the glass of water and barely set it down before my hand slips. My eyes are already closed by the time I curl up against the pillow, on top of the blanket.
A little nap.
So strange, though, how quickly I fell asleep. Completely dressed. All of a sudden.
Only as sleep claims me do I remember that the glass was half-full last night. And I didn't refill it today. Someone else did, my mind sleepily fills in. But I'm too tired to care.
Sleep pulls me under.
◌⑅⃝●♡⋆♡LOVE♡⋆♡●⑅◌
May be i'ts too much asking for a vote. Anyways love you guys, stay safe♡♡♡